Christmas In the Heart
by Mamajules12
Summary: This is a gift for Crinklybrownleaves, part of the TDBM Secret Santa. Set in season 3, Lucien and Jean get a tree to celebrate the holiday on their own.


**Christmas in the Heart**

_**It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air. -William Thomas Ellis**_

"Yes, Christmas Eve. Thank you Cec." Lucien hangs up the phone as Mattie plops down in the chair by his desk. "Mattie, you off to your parents' house?"

"Mmmhmm. My ride will be here any minute."

"You know I could have driven you to the train station." He looks a bit dejected that he wasn't asked.

"I know but you have been so busy. By the way what is going on Christmas Eve?"

"I figured I would make a reservation at the Colonist for dinner."

"Does Jean know about this?"

"Well, no but what's that matter?"

Mattie lets out a groan in frustration. "I'm sure she is planning on cooking a lovely meal."

Lucien's shoulders sag at his folly. "Oh, I assumed she would be going to Christopher's."

The distinct crunch of a car coming down the driveway can be heard. "That's my ride. Lucien, Jean is not going anywhere for the holiday. She is staying right here, in this house so be considerate." Mattie makes her way around the desk to give a peck on the good doctor's cheek, "Happy Christmas."

"I'm always considerate." The look that he receives stops him from continuing his line of defense for he knows all too well the things Jean puts up with living with him. "Right. Enjoy your week."

Lucien can hear Jean making her way down the hall calling after Mattie. The young nurse watches the change on his face just at the sound of Jean's voice. A smile that reaches his eyes and a calmness settles over him.

"Lucien, you need to talk to her. I mean sit down and really talk, please."

"What? Jean and I talk all the time."

Mattie throws her hands up in frustration, as she makes her way to the front door where Jean is waiting with a tin of biscuits for the O'Briens.

Lucien and Jean wave as they watch the car pulls out of the driveway, without thinking Lucien places his hand at the small of Jean's back. She pauses, relishing in the heat from his palm before turning to go back inside. "Jean, I have something to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Mattie tells me you are staying here for Christmas."

"Yes, with the baby on the way Christopher and Ruby decided to go to her parents before it gets too difficult for her to travel." Lucien sees the sadness in Jean. He is so angry at her sons for their treatment towards their mother but it is not his place to speak ill of them to her.

"Since it will be just the two of us I was thinking. I mean, well, I made a reservation at the Colonist for dinner. Would you care to join me? That way you don't have to cook."

"That's very kind of you Lucien. But who says I was cooking?" Her brow raises questioning.

"Well, I just…" He catches the mischievous smirk she wears when teasing him.

"It sounds lovely Lucien." She continues into the house, Lucien following close behind. "It will be strange to have the house to ourselves, so quiet."

"Mmm. I am glad Munro allowed Charlie to take off a few days to be with his mother for Christmas." As soon as the words come out, Lucien bites his lip wishing he could take them back.

"Yes, Charlie seems like a fine young man. Tea?"

"What do you say we get a tree?" He nibbles on another ginger biscuit that Jean placed out.

"You want to get a tree?"

"Sure why not? I am actually surprised we don't have one up already?"

"It's been years since there has been a tree up in this house."

"What?" Lucien sputters, nearly choking.

Jean pats his back as if is the most natural thing to do. "I put a small tree up the first few years I lived here, when the boys were still around, but after that your father didn't want much fuss around the holidays."

"That sounds like dad." Lucien says with disdain. He stares at the beautiful woman sitting next to him, his dear friend, confidant; the first person in too many years to imagine that gives him purpose even if she is unaware of her hold on him. He makes a promise to himself to give her the best christmas he can.

She can feel his eyes on her, and feels the heat rise in her cheeks. She makes eye contact, searching the blue eyes she knows so well. "What is it Lucien?"

"We should get a tree."

"Alright." Lucien stands abruptly, startling Jean with his enthusiasm "Now?"

"No, of course not." He tries to cover the disappointment, having been certain that Jean would have raced out of the house with him.

Jean loves watching him this way. Her brilliant doctor fumbling like a school boy. "Tomorrow? I'll pack a lunch. We can make a day of it."

"Jean, that sounds marvelous."

"Come on. Help me peel the veg for supper."

Lucien sits back down, a few hours ago, he thought he would be spending the holiday alone now he carries an excitement inside him that radiates from him. His smile is infectious for soon Jean's own delight matches his. She turns on the radio, gathers the vegetables, while Lucien hums along. Soon they are both sing, harmonizing to the carols that are playing while they work on preparing the meal they will share.

In the morning the pair work in unison preparing for their quest for a tree that will bring some Christmas cheer to 7 Mycroft Avenue. "Lucien, do have a saw?" Jean asks as she places the picnic basket on the back seat.

"Yes."

"One that cuts wood, not bone?"

"Funny."

"I never know with you doctor." Jean is having fun at his expense. He is enjoying every moment of the affectionate teasing.

The best tree farm is on the outskirts on Wendouree. Many of the trees are long gone but enough are left to meander through. Lucien heads right to the largest tree he can find.

"How about this beauty?" He beams in his childish fashion.

"Where on earth would we put that, Lucien?"

"Yes, you're quite right."

"What about this one." Jean looks at a tree that barely reaches her knee.

"Really Jean, I think we can go bigger than that." They continue pointing out various trees, none meeting each others expectations. It's Jean who spots the perfect tree several rows away from them.

"Lucien, look at that one over there." She grabs a hold of his hand to guide him along. Lucien tightens his grasp entwining his fingers with hers, not wanting her hand to slip from its place. It isn't until they are in front of the tree assessing it that propriety takes hold and Jean slips her hand from his.

"It most certainly looks like a good tree. Nice height but not too tall. Full but not too wide."

"I wonder why it's still here?" Jean brow furrows and eyes squint.

They continue to walk around the perfect tree and they notice the imperfections on the backside, almost as if the tree is scarred. Lucien feels Jean's small hand nestle back into his. "I think this is the one."

"Jean, I think so too. Come on let me get under this and chop it down." Lucien gives a moan positioning himself to saw the trunk. "Now mind yourself, Jean. Stand back."

The tree stands in a place of honor by the window in the parlor. The boxes of Christmas decorations and lights litter the room, many broken from the years of neglect. "Oh bloody hell!" Lucien's frustration rises with every strand of lights that don't work.

"We'll just have to buy new Lucien." The sound of the phone cuts through the soft music that is playing, trying to keep the holiday spirit flowing. "I'll get it."

"Damn!" Lucien throws another strand in the pile to be thrown out.

"Lucien, you're needed at the station." The disappointment on Jean's face guts him. He makes a feeble attempt to pick up the discarded ornaments. "I've got this. Go."

"I'll pick up some lights when I'm out." He makes his way through the boxes towards the door but turns to watch the sadness wash over Jean as she picks up a tossed aside ribbon. This is not what he had planned. "Jean, I am sorry."

Lucien's frustration through the evening only increases. Munro calling him in to tend to a drunk lot from a pub brawl is out of spite, he is sure of it. The only thing keeping him from tearing into the boss is the knowledge that he had the hindsight to stop and get lights on his way to the station and that as of midnight he would not be on call again till the after Boxing Day. He needs to remember to thank Alice again.

It is going on ten o'clock when he gets home. The house is dark except for the lamps Jean has left on for him. He notes the cleanliness of the parlor, the dark tree a sentinel to the room. A plate with some dinner is waiting on the table for him. He takes a hardy bite before he pours himself a whiskey.

"Jean! Are you awake?" His excitement and a couple of whiskeys has brought him to Jean's bedroom door.

The door opens, Jean soft with sleep. "Lucien, what is it?"

Immediately upon seeing her he is struck with how wrong his actions are, stumbling over his words. "The lights are on the tree." Jean's stare has Mattie's words ring in his head, _be considerate._ "I thought we might decorate it?"

"You want to decorate the tree now? It's nearly midnight."

"No, you're right tomorrow then." Lucien walks away, his disappointment heavy on his shoulders. The slump of his shoulders pulls at Jean's heart.

"Wait! I'm awake now." She follows him downstairs. He is pleasantly surprised that she doesn't put her robe on, it doesn't suit her at all.

The parlor is a glow from the lights on the tree. Lucien took it upon himself to string the extra lights along the mantle, two stockings hanging down. A few boxes of ornaments are open waiting for the contents to be placed on the branches. "I may have bought a few extra things. Hope that's alright?"

Jean face beams at the transformation of the room. She gives a chuckle at the glass of whiskey next to a plate of biscuits. "Been playing Father Christmas?"

"Yes, well. I couldn't help myself." Grabbing another biscuit, Lucien watches in shock as Jean takes it from him, takes a bite before handing it back. The intimacy is not lost on the doctor as he places the remaining half into his mouth.

"Shall we start with these?" Jean holds out a shimmery glass ornament to Lucien.

The music softly plays while they finish trimming the tree. Few words are spoken both basking in the presence of each other, the comfort of having someone to share the simple moments of the holiday. The tree is nearly complete when Lucien sees Jean searching for something. "Lose something?"

"No, not to speak of. There doesn't seem to be anything for the top."

"Aaah. Just a minute." Lucien grabs a small box from the kitchen, amongst the many bags he has lying about.

"What is all that?"

"I picked up some crackers and chocolates to bring to the orphanage on Christmas day. Would you care to join me? I'm sure the kiddies would love to see you."

"I would like that very much Lucien." She takes the box from him. "What is this?"

"I saw it in the shop today when I was picking up the lights. I thought of you." Jean brow raises. "What I mean is I thought you might like it."

Inside is a delicate, handcrafted angel. Jean lets out a slight gasp, "She's beautiful Lucien."

"Maybe she will work for the top?"

"Yes, I think she will work just fine." Lucien notices Jean's eyes, glassy with unshed tears.

"Jean?"

"Thank you." There is a crack in her voice as she regains her composure. "Would you do the honors?" Handing the delicate gift to Lucien to place at the top of their tree.

With the tree complete, they both know that sleep is in order but neither wants to retreat ending their time together. Familiar notes float through the air as Nat King Cole begins to sing _Chestnuts roasting on an open fire._ Lucien turns to Jean, who looks ethereal, her curls falling loosely, the only light in the room is that emanating from the christmas lights about. "Dance with me?"

Her head knows she should say no but her heart betrays her. Instead she says nothing allowing Lucien to lead her in a slow dance. Not sure if it is the exhaustion from the late hour or the touch of being in a man's arm after such a long time alone, a man she cares deeply for, but Jean finds herself leaning into his embrace, her cheek on his chest, the beating of his heart lulls her.

Lucien keeps his arm around Jean, his nose in her hair, deeply breathing in her familiar scent, long after the song ends.

It is Jean who pulls away first. "It's very late. I should go to bed."

"Of course."

"I'll clean this up in the morning before church."

"I'll help you. It will be quick work with the two of us."

She goes to make her way up the stairs, but turns back before she loses her courage. "The children's pageant is in the morning after mass. Join me?" Jean echos Lucien's earlier question.

"I'd like very much." The words he wants to add, the words his heart wants to add, seem to stick in his throat. He composes himself for a moment staring deep into her steel grey eyes, "for the children, of course."

They both wear a look of hope. A hope that comes with the spirit of Christmas; a hope of things to come.

"Good night, Lucien."

"Good night, Jean."


End file.
